


Speaking in static

by isevsianne



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Dysfunctional Relationships, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 19:42:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6870877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isevsianne/pseuds/isevsianne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She leaves while she is still convinced it is the right thing to do.</p><p>Or: Pepper & Tony, torn apart, still together. It's complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speaking in static

Pepper Potts doesn't give up without a fight. 

At least, not at first, but she only has so much fight in her, before Tony makes it impossible for her to continue. It's not his fault, and yet it is, and it's not like he can help it this time. 

“It's complicated”, he tells her, “saving the world”.

He knows damn well that it's more complicated to run the world, and she has always been running his. It's not a competition, she knows that much, too, so she stays silent. They're at a standstill, once again, but Pepper is not giving up. 

*

Tony runs on penance, and he seems to never run out. Make a mistake, live in guilt, work to fix it, make another, and so on and so forth until he collapses under the weight because he can never just let go. Pepper understands it, she does. Her mistakes hurt the bottom line, his cost lives, _have_ cost lives.

She tells him, sometimes, in the quiet moments when he's done being broken, that he can just stop. She's not asking, she's not demanding, she is just reminding him that it's an option. And even in the dark of the room, with her pyjama top soaked in his tears while his own shirt is soaked in sweat from the nightmares that keep shaking them both awake, she can see it in his eyes. He's not going to stop. 

He's never going to stop because he doesn't know what comes after. 

*

Pepper's office has big windows made out of bullet proof glass, even when they know after Manhattan (after Sokovia, after whatever is coming next, as there is always a next) that aliens from other dimensions care little for windows being bullet proof. Tony wants to build her a new office, but she refuses to take business calls in an underground bunker. There has to be a limit. 

“We could have one of the suits--” he begins explaining, but she shuts it down.

“I'm not going into a suit again, Tony,” she tells him. “It's fine.”

She's not the one who feels unsafe, and even though Tony tells her, in their better moments, that he won't shatter if she isn't gentle with him, that she can get a little rough on him, she sees that it's the furthest thing from the truth. He has never been more fragile, and he has never been less willing to remedy it.

It _fucking_ kills her.

*

She drafts a list of people he can talk to, starting with Rhodey and ending with a list of qualified experts she has begged to open up their schedules for one day, taking advantage of every connection she's ever made in the world. It helps her focus at work, in her unsafe office, even as every thought of Tony ends up being a distraction. The list makes her feel like something is being done, even though Tony pretends everything is fine. 

Her own name is on that list, too, but whenever she brings it up, Tony changes the subject.

“We talk all the time, in fact they're talking right this moment,” he says, tinkering with his latest project before putting it down and looking up at her, adding, “Would you like to do something else for a while?” He lets his gaze drop from her eyes to her lips.

“Tony,” she says, and her gentle smile flattens into a frown, because he always does this, and she knows by now they can't just fuck their way out of his trauma. If it were that simple, he'd be cured by now.

The rejection hurts him in the moment, and she knows she's made little mistakes like this along the way, too, but this is her nature. Not enough gets done without Pepper, so Pepper does everything she can. Pepper calls experts, Pepper reads books on Tony's problems like she's studying for an exam, Pepper stops Tony from working thirty hours in a row with little to show for it, Pepper makes him sleep so he can try saving the world the next day, even as he feels like he's never doing enough. Pepper works seventy hour weeks to make sure that the company stays afloat, so he still has the money to keep saving the world, and Pepper sleeps two hours in between Tony jolting her awake, and apologizing, and she says it's fine, because she can't possibly add to his burden. Pepper kisses him and makes love to him, even when he's mentally a million miles away, his brain fried from the guilt and the work and the anxiety. It's not his fault, and it's not her fault, but she can't keep doing this.

Pepper loves him, she gives and gives and gives, but she is tired, too.

*

He will not talk to strangers, either, even if such strangers were qualified experts and making time for him. This becomes a point of contention they circle back to, time and time again, even as he keeps deflecting and flirting and avoiding the topic altogether. He says he's too busy, but she knows he's working on things and abandoning them, because his concentration is shot. He relies on the AI to remind of him what he was doing, and he struggles to finish anything, and it frustrates him. She comes home to a messy lab, a work desk that's half empty with bits and pieces of prototypes strewn across the floor, and Tony with blood-shot eyes, tired and angry and putting on a facade when he sees her in the room.

“Can't you just go to Boston next Tuesday and see Dr Ramamurthy?” she begs him. “You don't know how many calls I had to make to get her to see you. She's been a specialist for thirty years, Tony, she knows what you're going through. She can help. I can even fly her in if you want.”

“I'll think about it,” he says with a smile, too strained to be genuine. “Now come here. You want to talk? We'll talk.”

She's too angry to talk, so instead she runs the treadmill for as long as she can until her limbs feel weak, and then she stays in the shower, switching between cold and warm until she finally feels relaxed. When she returns to where he last left him, he's gone. 

*

She breaks a few times, losing her cool in moments she wanted so badly to keep it. 

“You need help, Tony,” she says through tears. “Help that for once, I can't give. I don't know how.”

He holds her, assures her it's fine, she's doing enough, she's fixing it, like Pepper always fixes it. It's a lie, but it feels good in the moment, to be wrapped in his arms and in the convenient lies that maybe they can do this even if he doesn't know how, and she doesn't know how, either. Maybe they can fix it just by being together like this. He kisses her and for once she feels him there, both mentally and physically, and for the first time in months the sex puts them both to a calming, perfect deep sleep.

*

She tries taking a vacation, even though proper CEOs don't take vacations, but she needs to tear them both away from all of this and to a place that is beautiful enough and relaxing enough that maybe they won't be able to avoid each other. Where things won't hurt like they do at home.

The tropical island she chose is beautiful, but the beauty puts him on edge, because any place new is a place where he doesn't know the security risks. They stay mostly at the hotel, but he still can't sleep and her brain is constantly being filled with work, as her phone pings with notifications about stocks and updates and project proposals waiting on her desk. 

Neither of them can handle it, so they fight more than at home, and every round of arguments takes on a new, more cutting tone. Every word slices closer to bone. 

After she gets back home, and to the quiet of her office (still unsafe, still makes him fidget) she writes up a new list. This time it is for an exit strategy.

*

She tries steeling her up for the moment that she finally lets him know. Maybe it will be a revelation when he realizes that he can't keep piling on the guilt and the workload until he buckles under it any more than he already has, that he needs her, but the way he keeps living is killing her, not just him. It's not about the damn suits, or about saving the world. It's that Tony is dying, and she can't stop him if he won't stop himself by accepting help. It's that they keep hurting each other without meaning to, and neither of them really knows how to stop.

He stills at his work desk when he hears the clicks of her heels and the wheels of her suitcase. She takes a deep breath and launches into her reluctant exit strategy.

“It won't be for long, at least I hope not,” she tells him, and her hands find his shoulders, stiffened by anticipation. “I talked to Rhodey and I even called Sam Wilson, you should go visit him, Tony, it might help. This isn't...” She swallows some words, pauses, re-collects herself. “I love you. I just need my space.”

They probably shouldn't kiss in the moment, but she pulls him in for one regardless, and his hands find the small of her back, keeping her close to him. She tries to find something in his touch, in his look as they pull apart, that signals to her that something has changed in him. Instead she just sees pain and defeat, a shattered man, and Pepper blinks back tears because she knows that this time, it's not the guilt or the trauma that broke him, it's her. 

“I understand,” he says, his arm falling to his side and though she's standing close, they are no longer touching. 

She leaves the room while she is still convinced it is the right thing to do.

*

Life keeps bringing them back together. She remains CEO and there is always a gala or a function, and the PR department still thinks it would be great to see Tony in a suit, smiling next to Pepper. Her assistant always sets it up, and he wears tinted glasses to hide the circles around his eyes from the flashing cameras. They talk about work on the limo ride over and then he starts flirting with her, and it feels like the old times. He even calls her Ms Potts, putting a familiar distance between them, but this time it's mere role-play. It eases the tension between them, because her last name is not one he's muttered out in ecstacy or amidst an argument or between sobs during another night of no sleep and despair. They're just Mr Stark and Ms Potts, putting on a face for the public, happy and flirty and bickering about all things perfectly inconsequential, exchanging looks full of spark and promise. It's phoney, but it's exhilarating, too. It feels real.

The effects are stronger than any alcohol or drug in the world and when they get back to their ride home as the gala has wrapped up and enough hands have been shaken to satisfy the guests, Pepper's fingers play at Tony's bow tie fussily and it's all the signal he needs to lean in for a kiss. In an universe filled with bad ideas this is by far their worst one, but Pepper climbs onto him anyway, stretching her dress as she straddles him, kissing and needing and wanting, and when the car gets to her apartment, they both exit.

“I really shouldn't sleep with the boss,” Tony says lightly, sitting on her bed while she undresses. He cocks his head slightly, staring at her like he's seeing this for the first time. “I'm just a lowly R&D guy trying to earn a living. Do you need a help with that zipper, boss?”

“Yes,” she admits, and when he comes over, fingertips playing over her shoulderblades as he gets the zipper of her dress unstuck and open, she breathes in his scent, a heated flush rising to her cheeks. He kisses her neck and the touch is so light she gasps, almost saying his name and breaking the fantasy. Instead, she turns around, her hands meeting behind his neck, and her hips find his, pushing forward until they're both on the bed, with her on top.

“I can be very professional about this,” she tells him, her fingers already pulling off his underwear, and her tone is in-character but also contains a warning. If they can just keep this going, if they can work together to not mess this night up, then maybe they'll have a chance to not mess up tomorrow.

“Me too, boss,” Tony says, half a groan as Pepper's head dips to kiss his his exposed hip. “Professional, got it. But if I do good, I can get a promotion out of this, right?”

Pepper smiles against his skin, and looks up again. “Do you always talk this much during sex?”

“I can be good and shut up, Ms Potts, whatever you need,” Tony says, breathing in sharply, hips bucking slightly as Pepper touches him.

“It's fine, I think I prefer it,” she says, climbing back up to kiss him. 

*

The fantasy comes apart quietly in the aftermath when he's tenderly tracing the lines of her fingers, splayed against his chest, and she's too busy to fall asleep to hear what Tony is saying, her tired brain only making out fragments.

“– can't function – – so _fucking_ sorry, I don't know – Pepper –“

“Love you,” she mutters, turning her head slightly to kiss his shoulder. “Sleep, Tony.”

It only occurs to her in the morning, when she wakes up alone and heartbroken, that he can't sleep and they can't keep living in an illusion, as tempting as it would be. They made a mess of it again, together, but she still blames herself. All she wants to do is stay in bed, so she forces herself to get up and go to work. 

*

Half a week later Rhodey calls her, and he thinks Tony is drinking again.

“Really,” Pepper says flatly, and it's all she can do to keep it together, even as Rhodey's frustrated sigh carries through the phone and breaks off another piece of her. 

*

Two months later there is a fundraiser and Tony is back by her side, his hand holding onto hers on the red carpet, and she knows it's not just for show. This time, she pulls him into the bathroom and they don't talk at all, communicating only in grunts and moans and the occasional strangled 'please' escaping from one of them. 

“Are you drinking again?” she asks him, adjusting his suit, aiming for concerned but probably missing the mark and coming off as stern. 

“No,” he tells her. “Promise,” he adds, looking at her from beneath his brows.

She smiles, and maybe it's a lie, but she only smells cologne and sex on him, so if it is a lie she's content to accept it and sleep soundly the next night. They leave in separate vehicles this time, and though her bed feels empty in the morning after, she trusts that this is for the better. For now. Maybe.

*

The news rolls in, each item more horrifying than the next. Lagos, The Sokovia accords and the rift in the Avengers, then Vienna, Bucharest, and finally Berlin. Natasha texts her updates when she can, and Rhodey talks to her on the phone every now and then, but then communication stops, suddenly, and it's only on the news that she finds out Rhodey has been shot down.

Tony is not at the hospital when she finally makes it there, so she stays with Rhodey for as long as she can manage it. He's unconscious and the doctors say he will stay that way for a while, and sitting with him, Pepper feels her loneliness as well as Tony's, crushing and terrifying. If he was here, she'd just hold him tightly. It wouldn't repair anything, but it'd be a start, one that they could maybe build on. Maybe she's running on penance, too, refusing to move on from the mistakes that have been made. It doesn't matter who made them now.

She sits by Rhodey's hospital bed, and when the nurse has left the room, she holds his hand in hers and cries.

*

Eventually, she has to return to work, and news trickle in about Siberia, but details are scarce. She knows Tony is alive and Zemo is captured, Steve Rogers and the Winter Soldier still on the run, but nothing else circulates, and Natasha has stopped answering Pepper's messages. 

Rhodey wakes up some weeks later, thankfully, and shares some details, but even he is cagey about Tony.

“Something happened in Siberia, Pepper,” he says to her, squeezing her hand. “He'll tell us when he's ready.”

A slow panic sets in Pepper, and she hates it. To live with Tony means to worry about him, but with the distance between them now, she worries double. It was supposed to help them repair whatever they needed to repair in themselves, but now she isn't so sure anymore. 

*

She invites Tony to another unimportant event, and she knows it's a coward's excuse to see him. Yet she knows she can't just get in touch with him and say she wants to talk, as she has no idea what to say. Just being by his side might be enough, merely holding him close when they get a moment alone and telling him that if he wants to talk, about Berlin or Siberia or Steve or any of it, she's here, and she is listening, and whatever needs fixing, they don't need to worry about it for now.

Pepper will fix it all, eventually. She just needs him there.

Just before the end of her work day, she receives a voice message from Tony, saying that he has moved in with the rest of the Avengers, to help Rhodey with the physical therapy, and can't make it to the event.

“But,” the message continues, his voice lowering as Pepper leans in closer to the phone system to listen, “I could use some coffee. Is that too forward, boss? ... _Pepper_. I don't know. Think about it? I won't pester you. Sorry. Bye.”

She leans back in her chair, processes this. She takes her phone and types a message, unsure of what to say, but certain she has to say yes.

 _Hi_ , the message reads. _Coffee would be nice._

She just needs him there, and then what comes after, they'll figure out later on.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the Civil War for making my favorite functional, bickering but happy MCU ship a dysfunctional angsty mess who are on 'a break', which meant that my heart is broken but my brain is full of angsty fic. I love them either way. 
> 
> And thank you for reading. I'm not new to fanfiction but this is my first work after a four year or so hiatus. It's good to be back.


End file.
